


Baby, Keep The Tip

by spockandawe



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Body Horror, Explicit Sexual Content, Genital Torture, Guro, M/M, Mutilation, Rape, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 18:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: As the time passes, unfortunately, it becomes more difficult to think of something new to relieve the tedium of Garrus-9. After a certain point, old amusements hardly serve to occupy you, and there’s only so many times you can think of new things to try. But that does mean that any fresh idea thatdoesoccur to you is something to be savored. You think it's time to pay a visit to Fortress Maximus.





	Baby, Keep The Tip

**Author's Note:**

> I can't warn for this fic strongly enough. This is a setting where regular rape and torture have been a thing for these characters for a long time, the fic itself is explicit rape with major sexual body horror. This is meant to be my guro fill for kink bingo, but I didn't want to put this in the main document where someone might stumble across it unprepared.
> 
> The tags for these sex acts don't really exist, but I'll put spoilers at the end of the document if you want to know what you're getting into before you read it. Search for 'spoilers:' if you want to jump to that summary.
> 
>  
> 
> Tumblr

As the time passes, unfortunately, it becomes more difficult to think of something new to relieve the tedium of Garrus-9. After a certain point, old amusements hardly serve to occupy you, and there’s only so many times you can think of new things to try. But that does mean that any fresh idea that  _ does  _ occur to you is something to be cherished.

That being the case, you’re sure to take the time to savor it before putting it into action. You don’t rush off to carelessly waste it without proper consideration. You let the anticipation build while you continue to watch as mechs fight and kill for your entertainment. But you barely pay it any mind. Your thoughts are too full of plans for the evening.

Today’s eventual victor is so injured he’s barely conscious by the time the last fight ends, and there’s hardly any fun in offering him his prize. But today? Today you don’t mind. You kill him quickly and make your way down to the lower levels of the prison to visit Fortress Maximus.

He’s been in worse shape. And you ought to know. You realized early on that taking him to pieces only  _ once _ would be depriving yourself. Sometimes it’s entertaining to see how close you can take him to going permanently offline, sometimes your work is more aimless than that. But it’s rewarding in its own way to put him back together again afterwards. You used to make the medics do it, but there aren’t many of them left these days. It’s never something you’ve had to do for yourself, so you’re learning as you go, but you think you’re starting to get rather good at it.

Fortress Maximus is awake and watching you— one of his optics is functioning after all, which is a surprise, but good to know. It would be irritating to have to repair it before you have your fun, but you do very much want him to see what you’re doing today. He isn’t saying anything. He knows it isn’t worth it. 

Regardless, you take the time to admire your own handiwork. His arms and legs are on the floor right now, but you can still see the old weld scars on his frame from the other times you’ve reattached them. You can practically see your progress as you learned how to use the welding torch. Though that  _ is _ a shame in its own way. There’s something about his reactions when you’re nominally fixing him, then accidentally melt a cluster of sensory wires— But you’re forgetting yourself.

You walk up to the side of the slab he’s bolted to and press the button raise the head of it, so he’s tilted towards you. You already know he’s at the right height. This is similar enough to things you’ve already done.

And Fortress Maximus relaxes fractionally, his optics focused at some point over your shoulder. He thinks he knows what you’re going to do.

You let him go on thinking that. Once he’s at a good angle, you reach down to his panel. He has a panel right now. Sometimes half the entertainment is in forcing him to open it. Today, you dig your fingers hard into his plating and rip it off.

His working optic flickers, but he barely reacts. How boring. Still, that means he urges you to greater and greater creative heights, so in a way you’re grateful. And the longer he thinks he knows how this evening will end, the more entertaining the eventual reveal will be, so you can afford to be gracious.

So you reach down to his spike casing. You’re gentle enough here. You rub at the plating without cruelty, without any pain at all. You even avoid going too near one fresh weld scar that still looks tender. It takes an irritatingly long time for his frame to begin to respond, even though you know it’s inevitable—and he still won’t look at you—but you hold annoyance at bay, thinking of how interesting the evening will be once he does give in.

It happens. Eventually. His spike pressurizes by slow degrees. You’re sure he’s trying his hardest to hold it back. He won’t be able to. You continue to touch him carefully, making an effort not to hurt him as you encourage his spike to harden. And really, you’ve been kind to his spike. It’s barely damaged at all. After all, you make use of it regularly, and it would be to irritating to have to repair all those tiny delicate plates every time you decided you were in the mood for it.

You watch Fortress Maximus for reactions, but his optics remain distant and his face doesn’t move. Really, you’re tired of that. It makes you even more pleased that you’ve thought of a new way to change the game. 

Still, patience. You run your fingers along his spike, let them drift lower, over his valve. His node— Well, that is rather damaged. It was just so tempting, and you’ve tried to repair it a few times, but you are still learning, and he doesn’t do well at holding still when you’re working on that part of his frame.

But now he thinks he’s certain how he evening will go. After so long learning to read his reactions, you can see the tiny ways the tension shifts in his frame. You’ve done this before, left pain off the table for a day, given him nothing but pleasure until his frame has no choice to respond to you, made him overload over and over without hurting him once. It’s entertaining, sometimes. 

Today, you just wait a little longer, your fingertips resting against his valve, just to let him become more certain he knows what you’re planning— And then you take his spike in one hand and rip it from his body.

He screams. Not much before he cuts himself off, not much at all compared to the early days. But how many months has it been since you got a reaction like  _ this _ from him? You take a step back and watch the way he tries to thrash against the bolts holding him down before he subsides, shivering, and feel a pulse of interest from your own array.

There’s energon running from his empty spike casing, dripping down over his valve and running down the slab to puddle on the floor. You look at the spike you’re holding, turning it over in your hand, examining it. You could ride it like this, you suppose. Riding it while Fortress Maximus watches you? That has appeal, certainly. But you don’t think you’ll waste time on that when you already have something better in mind.

You step forward again, closing that little distance between you until you’re leaned up against his frame. He isn’t looking at you. His optic is distant as he stares at the wall. He holds himself almost completely still, though he can’t quite suppress the uneven sound of his own ventilations.

For a few nanokliks, you stay there, just looking at him. This will never have as much impact again, so you plan to savor every moment of the experience. When he nearly has his ventilations under control again, with your free hand, you reach down to his valve. 

The way he flinches isn’t quite visible, but you can feel the minute shift of tension in his frame and the way his mouth tightens. You don’t hurt him, you only slip two fingers inside his valve, but the tension doesn’t leave him.

Your fingers catch here and there on the raised lines of weld scars, but the energon still running over his valve smooths your way. You frag him with your fingers until his frame finally, involuntarily starts to respond and you feel the slightest trickle of lubricant against your plating. Then you add a third finger and keep going. It takes some time for you to overcome his self-control. That’s good. There wouldn’t be any fun in this if he made it too easy for you. But no matter how he tries to fight it, eventually you feel his frame starting to heat against you, and your fingers move easily inside him, wet with his lubricant.

Now you shift so you’re taking your own weight again. Fortress Maximus keeps his optic stubbornly distant, fixed on the far wall. He doesn’t look as you take your fingers from inside him and spread his valve open. He doesn’t look as you reach down with your other hand.

You press his severed spike into his valve. And there, then, he finally reacts. There’s a moment of undisguised horror and revulsion before he forces his face into blankness again, but you were watching for that moment, and it was everything you could have ever hoped for. And here you are, only just beginning.

So you take the time to frag him with his own spike, but you’re already impatient. The entertainment of this part is all in the concept, and it isn’t a particularly innovative concept either. You’ve just preferred to keep his array largely intact until now. And he’s already trying to wall himself off again. His mouth is a thin, hard line as he stares across the room, pretending you aren’t there. Terribly boring.

Fine, it’s been long enough. You push his spike deep into his valve, all the way inside him, pushing on the ragged end with two fingers until you feel it run up against his ceiling node. You press it in a little further, just to be sure it will stay— And once you’re satisfied it won’t slip out, you turn away and turn to your workbench to pick up your welding torch.

_ Now _ you have Fortress Maximus’s attention. His optic is on you, dismay on his face,  _ fear _ on his face. You think for a moment he’s about to beg, and you pause, smiling, with the torch raised— But it never comes. You can hear his fans now, see the abortive way he tries to struggle against the bolts holding him to the table. Perhaps it would have been more entertaining to reattach his arms and legs and let him try to fight this off, but there  _ is _ something nice about how very helpless he is right now.

You take your time getting situated. You take your time fussing with how his spike sits inside him, how his valve is arranged, lots of little details that really don’t matter. Your attention is on his face and frame, the way he’s struggling not to react. The way he’s struggling to make his peace with what you’re about to do.

He doesn’t scream at the first touch of the welding torch. But he doesn’t last more than a nanoklik either. And then he can’t control it, screaming as loud as you’ve ever heard him and trying so very hard to thrash. You hear something pop in his vocalizer—you’ve never fixed one of those before, that should be interesting—and half his scream becomes static, but he still can’t stop, and you’re nowhere near finished.

And you take your time. You do go carefully, in case you want to undo your work and repeat this game in the future. You take your time, keeping the weld neat, being sure his spike is secure inside him. And would you look at that, you’ve even managed not to cover the ruin of his node, so you’ll still be able to amuse yourself with that without needing to undo your weld.

Fortress Maximus isn’t screaming anymore, but you aren’t sure if that’s his own doing or if he just managed to completely wreck his own voice. You suppose you’ll figure out soon enough.

For the moment, you set your fingers against the fresh weld, ignoring the heat. You push against it, and it’s barely any pressure at all, but Fortress Maximus’s optic sparks and flares and he struggles to twist away from you. You push even harder, and his vocalizer spits incoherent static. Whatever self-control he has, his expression right now is naked pain— but you also hear the way his fans notch faster.

That could almost be pain. But you’ve known him so well for so long. 

You rub your fingers along the fresh weld. You’re sure you can’t actually feel his spike through that metal, but this— now  _ this _ is interesting. You hadn’t thought this through all the way. You knew there would be the horror of what you were doing to him. You’d considered that he’d have his spike inside him like a lover’s, and the sensation that would result. But you’d assumed that by welding his valve shut, you’d be ruining his valve as completely as you ruined his spike. And you haven’t, have you.

You press the heel of your hand into the weld, and now he makes a true noise again, one sharp cry, cut off quickly. This is even more entertaining than you thought it would be. Your torch would have destroyed his sensors along the  _ outside _ of his valve, yes. But you wouldn’t have affected the ones inside him. Most of his internal nodes are likely intact, and now his own spike is rubbing against them with every movement he makes. It’s pressed against them even when he doesn’t move. Completely inescapable and unrelenting. If he’s still producing lubricant, the added pressure can’t be helping either.

Really, this is too amusing, you don’t know how you’re supposed to ever undo it. Losing the use of his spike and valve would be the only pressing reason to repair him that you can think of. But even then, you do have at least a partial solution.

Now, you set aside the welding torch and let your own panel open. You take your spike in hand, but take your time. Looking Fortress Maximus over.  _ Savoring. _

But that can only last for so long, and you have no reason to deny yourself.

You step up to Fortress Maximus, your frame against his, and he looks at you, finally. His optic is unfocused and uncomprehending, and he hasn’t managed to force his face back into blankness yet. Good. You stroke your spike as he watches you, waiting to see if he’ll guess what’s next— But he doesn’t. His face is a mix of pain and confusion and you’re not willing to wait for him to catch up.

His spike is very slightly smaller than yours, but this should still work. With one hand, you brace yourself against the slab. With the other, you line your spike up with his empty spike casing, letting the head just barely press against his plating. And you watch his face, waiting for him to react.

And finally, understanding dawns. When you see the horror in his expression, your array sends a pulse of heat through your entire frame.

“No,” he says, his voice hoarse. It cracks when he repeats, “No,  _ no—” _

Now, you drive forward hard, sinking into him in one smooth motion. He’s tight, tighter than his valve ever was, but you still fit. And his spike casing is shallower than his valve, and he screams again when you bottom out inside him. There’s a fresh flow of energon from his casing as you pull back and press forward into him again.

If he wasn’t bolted to the slab, he’d be making your life much harder now. This is a little disappointing in some ways. Perhaps next time, you’ll reattach his legs and let him struggle to kick you away. But the shock and horror on his face, and the way he can’t  _ hide  _ it— That is something special. You can feel him try to twist away, try to thrash, anything to turn away from you, but the bolts give him no room to move. The back of his helm cracks against the slab, and he stares upward, away from you, trying to pretend he isn’t  _ here—  _

You grab what’s left of his hips and drive into him so hard his optic glitches out. He isn’t screaming now, but his loud, ragged ventilations are almost as good, and you can feel the hot trickle of energon over your spike and down your array. 

And now that you’re finding your rhythm, building towards overload, you realize that you can feel his spike inside him. You can feel the rigid length of his spike pressing against yours every time you slide deep into his valve, and you shift your angle a little, so that the next time you drive into him your spike presses even harder against his, and you hear Fortress Maximus audibly sob.

You’re already so close that you don’t have any chance of holding back. You overload hard, buried deep inside him, so that the heat of your transfluid and the heat of his energon are indistinguishable. He’s shaking under you. Some of that is pain. Not all of it. He stares at the ceiling, but his optic is wild and flickering as he tries and fails to bring himself under control. His vocalizer glitches and glitches, never quite actual sounds, but little hitching bursts of static, over and over. You can still feel how hot his frame is running.

Now isn’t that interesting. Not something you had expected, but hardly an opportunity you’re willing to pass up. You step back so you can study his array, ignoring the way he shudders as your spike withdraws from his empty casing. With what you’ve done to his array, you would have thought an overload was out of the question, but now— You rub your thumb against the fresh weld over his valve and he sobs again. This a much more interesting situation than you’d ever imagined.

You press your other thumb hard into what’s left of his node, and now he doesn’t quite scream, but he’s too far gone to properly hide his reactions to pleasure  _ or _ pain. Fresh energon still runs down over your fingers as you touch him. He’s shaking hard and can’t seem stop himself, and when you look up at his face, his optic is fixed on you.

You smile for him. “You really should relax. I think that you and I are going to be here for a  _ while.” _

**Author's Note:**

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> Spoilers: Overlord rips off Fort Max's spike, shoves it in Max's valve, and welds his valve shut. Then he fucks the empty casing where Max's spike used to be.


End file.
